Cake or Death? Death by Cake please...

I thought I'd get right in there with a photo of the finished article, should my writing fail to grab your attention. Is it not divine and beautiful, a magnificent specimen of marvellous cakedom? I defy any reader to deny its inner goodness. And I should think so too - this thing probably cost darn near £30 to make up (yes, I really was geeky enough to tot up the bill) and I would wager that each slice contains every single one of your RDA of vitamins and minerals, not to mention well over twice your daily recommended calorie and alcohol intake. How can you resist?

From start to finish the whole adventure has lasted some two weeks, I'd say. Ten days before Christmas Ma Pea and I waltzed gaily around the aisles of Waitrose, piling the trolley high with all sorts of fruity goodies, as well as nuts, icing sugar, flour, eggs, butter, and all those other requisite ingredients which make up the traditional Christmas cake.

Turns out that making a Christmas cake is not an activity for the faint of heart or, for that matter, faint of muscle. Nor for those short on time. From start to finish the entire exercise took some 6-8 hours, and that's before the marzipan and icing are added on. One of the main reasons I'll warrant which forces most to head for the ready-bought cake.

As I'm writing this on the eve of a rather last minute flying trip to Italy, I'm forced to make the cake-making revelries and descriptions rather shorter than is my usual way. However, suffice to say that the cake wasn't made without a few mini dramas - I learnt that chopping over 1 kilo of various sticky gloopy dried fruits is no mean feat, and is rather like one of those tasks that you'd be given in hell, though eventually I overcame the mountain and reigned victorious. The next hysterical fiasco was my realisation when it came to adding the cake mixture to the tin, that the recipe had called for a 24 inch ROUND cake tin, when I had, in fact, bought a 23 inch SQUARE cake tin. Furiously putting my GCSE maths to test, I figured out (after phoning a friend) that I'd need to increase the mixuture by a third for the mass to be right. Sod that. I loaded the mixture in and prayed as it baked away in the oven for a not paltry three hours.

It emerged a vision of perfection, with wafts of delightful and promising alcoholic fruitness tantalising my nostrils. I breathed a sigh of relief and got drunk on the fumes. But it had by no means reached the pinnacle of its success yet, oh no. There remained another ten days of brandy basting to come as every day I hovered lovingly over my Christmas baby, bathing it in obscene quantities of alcohol, ensuring not a crumb was left unsoaked, not a nut left unturned. Finally, Christmas Eve arrived, and the cake emerged from its brandy bath, sopping wet and spluttering more boozy fumes than a city boy on a Friday night. By now it was completely sozzled, ready and willing to be rolled up and tucked into its marzipan wrapper bed. At this stage my cosseting and fuss-making could be likened to a doting mother tending to her first-born.

At this stage though, my baby was yet half-dressed, as there remained....a cloak of glossy white icing. 2 egg whites whisked, and vast quantities of sugar whipped in, and I'd concocted what seeemed like the perfect consistency icing. I was getting rather precious about CC by this point, and delicately poking at it with a palette knife as I spread the sugar coat thickly across its top and sides. The belle of the ball it would be, with real genuine frothy peaks studding its unblemished complexion.

Then, the vandals set in, as Ma Pea tried to add a naff ballerina decoration to the apple of my eye. Some people just can't stand others' works of art:



I could barely wait for the icing to dry before I wanted to cut the first slice and taste the fruit (cake) of my (culinary) loins.
Course, I wasn't 100% what this thing was going to taste like so, for safety, I tested it out on an unsuspecting guest/guinea pig.


The result: STUPENDOUS!!! Moist, packed with a plethora of tasty dried fruits and generous quantities of hazelnuts, and with tender marzipan and the crunch of icing, this is a Christmas cake to top all Christmas cakes. Though, with the amount I've consumed already, it might well be the Christmas cake that ends me...

...still, I can't think of a better way to go.

We Wish you a Cakey Christmas

Oh the dedication - I write from my deathbed.

It's my own fault really, I tempted fate. I had the audacity (read: stupidity) to say, rather smugly, last Thursday, whilst standing in the presence of someone hacking and spluttering and fully lurgied up, that I'd 'not been ill this year'. I was commenting more out of surprise really as, when normally one is esconced deep within germ-ridden team in the corporate world, it's not a case of are you going to get ill but when you're going to get ill. And so I was rather revelling in the unexpected bonus that 'working from home' brings - Winter '08 is the winter of no bugs! But someone up above obviously saw my innocent conversation as tempting fate, and lo and behold, less than 24 hours later I started to feel...rather bleh.

I battled it for two solid days as I was deep in the West Sussex countryside studying cartoon and caricature for the weekend at West Dean College, an incredible mansion which belonged to a rich, old, eccentric called Edward James, who I'd ironically heard about first when on my travels in Mexico. His estate, however, is now dedicated to short and long courses teaching the arts. The weekend was astoundingly good, with rigorous hours of teaching and penflexing broken only by gorgeous, plentiful and timely meals. When I wasn't drawing, eating, or talking with the rest of my classmates, I was curled up by one of the many fires, catchingup on my reading. But the sniffles were a-lurkin'.

Finally, come end of course, I succumbed and have since gone completely under. Two days later, and on Christmas Eve no less, I'm bedbound and feeling very sorry for myself. Like, I suppose 75% of the rest of England. Cor blimey but we've got it good this year ent we?!!

So, I've been cheering myself up with thoughts of impending Christmas feast, but most importantly, and a now quite longstanding labour of love, the inaugural tasting of my homemade and obscenely alcoholic Christmas cake.

I thought I'd break from tradition, and instead make no apologies for the fact that it's been nigh on a month since I last wrote. After all, I can't afford to feel guilty, I need to save all the guilt for the monstruous amounts of Christmas calories we'll no doubt consume over the next few days...and then I'll start getting all dedicated and virtuous come 09. Honest.

These past few weeks I've been slowly but surely overcome with childlike Christmas glee: getting all excited about crackling log fires, steaming hot chocolate, decorating our hand-sawn Christmas tree with beautiful and sparkling decorations and putting my inner gift fairy to good use when advising friends on gift purchases for their adored ones...

Kitchen wise, I've recently been working my way through my adored and favouritest food writer ever (and many others' too no doubt) Nigel Slater's book on food and the love of everything about it, 'Appetite'. His very promising looking 'exceedingly boozy Christmas cake' recipe caught my eye, and the decision was made.



Thus I commence my cakey adventures. Oh come all ye faithful blog readers (minimal numbers at present due to very little action on my part to obtain an audience...), and join me over these next few entries in this shameless cakefest.

A Birthday rhyme to an old friend

The day dawned early and bright, December third,
this year's passed so quickly it seems quite absurd,
But beautiful winter sunshine through my window streamed bright,
so I threw open the curtains and saw with delight,
that the entire garden was completely embossed,
with a delicious icy coating of frost.
Bundling up, warm clothes v. biting cold,
I grabbed a camera in the hopes of photo gold.
I wanted to capture this magical, glittering morning.
but my photography should come with a small prewarning...
as, whilst my dear birthday friend has many a skill,
at capturing those photolicious moments that thrill,
my ability to close the shutter on the perfect shot,
is, I won't lie to you, not quite as hot.
Nevertheless, without further ado, and in my own little way,
I'll show you the magic moments of this beautiful day.

The icy sheen of directions. Beautiful markings to inspire me on my mini mission.

Frosted Treetrunks

The trees scraped their shadowy fingers across the fields, as I crossed a bridge into the magical forest.

This picture, and this place, causes me to take a nosedive straight back to my childhood in the states, and reading the terribly sad story Bridge to Terabithia. I got slightly lost in my imagination and had to pinch myself to resurface.

Marvellous mossy mystery.

Nature fallen.

Nature, dangling.


Wellie shot - just discovering my camera.

Pathway reminding me of Peter Rabbit - acrid smell of creosote from nearby garden allotments mixed with tinny waft of fir trees.

A virtual present - a cup of tea and some homemade cookies - chunky choc chip cookies, with their unseemly generous chunks of half melted chocolate. All that is missing is my birthday friend giggling with me as we lick the melted chocolate and buttery crumbs off our fingers, before reaching for another refill of tea and settling in for a good long girly chat.

Happy Birthday! xxx

Untitled: all options were too rude

I'm generally against essentially diarising every little bit and bob that my greedy little goblet guzzles, as it would be a little too like one of those 'food diaries' that they make you keep at WeightWatchers, however, I couldn't resist with this little cracker.

Yesterday I went and did my weekly frugal shop. I pottered into the meat section and these little babies caught my eye:


Look at those eh?! An intriguing cross between pork belly and bacon rashers, with lovely fresh pink flesh glistening seductively in between temptingly tasty layers of fat. The challenge was too good to resist. Into my trolley they went.

But then I got them home and hit the post-shopping euphoric lapse as I realised I really am quite naive in the ways of pig. Pork is just something that I've always been a nervous about. I suspect it's one of those childhood things, as there are all too many 'thin, grey, tastless, chewy' memories floating round from my schooldays. This means that, bar my two faves - bacon and sausages - the rest of the pig rarely gets a look in. My new resolution therefore: all of this is going to change as of TODAY!

Inspired by a recipe I read on one of my favourite blogs, Eggs on Sunday, I thought it was time I whipped them out of their packet for a little dance in the frying pan, just in the nick of time for my lunch. I tried a variation on Amy's recipe .

Rubbing salt and pepper into the thick rashers, I then laid them in a frying pan where some hot oil sizzled. They cooked for some 3-4 minutes on both sides until golden and cooked through, when I laid them on a hot plate to one side as I made the sauce. To the oil I added some finely diced red onion and some chopped sage, allowed it to sizzle, scraped in the remnants of the pork from the pan, and deglazed with a couple of capfuls of cider vinegar. The mixture bubbled and wafted tantalising smells. I let cook and reduce for a few moments before spooning it over my belly/rasher hybrid, and enjoyed them with some buttered leeks and garlicky mushrooms.

Heavenly.

Oldies are Goodies

One of the very happy side effects of living in a gurt big house in the country, and away from the hustle and bustle of London and constant social shenanigans that I would normally be furiously embroiled in, is that I'm really learning the value of spending real quality time with loved ones: friends and family.

So yesterday I was very excited when one of my bestest girlfriends came down to visit, the first time we've seen each other in the eight months or so since I went abroad. I had said we had so much to catch up on we should invest in one of those chess game timers - ok, 10 minutes to you, 10 minutes to me, 10 you, 10 me...thankfully we didn't have to resort to anything quite so regimented and I think we still pretty much covered all the bases, whilst at the same time cooking and eating a really very delicious, comforting winter supper to fill our tums as we talked.

Unsurprisingly, I'm the sort who finds it hard to concentrate on even two things at once - so listening, talking AND cooking meant that proceedings went veeeery leisurely, but that was fine, we had all the time in the world!

To curb our appetites, I quickly whipped us up some of the Carrot and Ginger soup, a rerun my last entry. It was just too good not to share!

A while later, we followed this up with Roast Butternut Squash and Bacon linguine with crumbled deep fried Sage, then a Blackberry tarlet for puds.

The Butternut Squash and Bacon linguine was really a bit of an experiment using some of my favourite ingredient combinations - I often use Butternut Squash in risotto, but I'd never actually cooked it with pasta. I figured really, what can go wrong with all of those goodies included?! My hunch was right and we both agreed it got top marks:

Butternut Squash & Bacon Linguine with crumbled deep fried Sage
Serves 2

Ingredients
a quarter of a butternut squash, peeled, deseeded and diced relatively small; 3-4 rashers bacon or pancetta, diced; 1 clove garlic, chopped; 8-9 sage leaves; 1/4 pint single cream; olive oil; linguine for 2

Method
Lay foil over a roasting tray and spread the butternut squash over, drizzle with olive oil and season generously, then roast at 240C for 30 minutes until soft with a little bite.
Start cooking the Linguine.
Lay the bacon in a frying pan and fry fast until slightly crispy. Remove the bacon from the pan and lay on kitchen paper to drain the fat, then quickly fry up the sage in the remaining bacon fat, removing to drain next to the bacon once done. My bacon produced enough fat for the whole dish but if yours doesn't, at this stage add a little olive oil and add the garlic until it sizzles and starts to go golden, then the bacon, and finally the butternut squash. Season, stir and cook through for a few minutes, and then add the cream, heat through for a minute or two.
Drain the linguine, retaining a tiny amount of water so the pasta doesn't dry, and toss together with the butternut squash mixture. Serve onto plates and crumble over the deep fried sage.
Thinking about it, by the time we served up, I was so eager to eat that I clean forgot parmesan, which of course would top off a truly delicious dish perfectly.

Blackberry Tarlets
Serves 2

I cheated and used preprepared, ready-to-cook tartlet cases (sorry, was BUSY during the day, can't cook everything from scratch!), but they were spectacular, so I would highly recommend cheating any day!

For the custard, beat 1 egg and add in a quarter pint of single cream, then beat in caster sugar. I've not quite figured out the right amount of caster sugar to add...I guesstimate maybe 5-6 tablespoons? Arrange the tartlet cases on a baking tray, and pour the custard in. Arrange the blackberries in the cases, and cook on about 180C for 15-20 minutes, until the pastry is cooked and the custard golden. Sift some icing sugar over the top if you want it really fancy. Me n mi amiga just gobbled ours down...hot! hot! hot!

Then the two greedy little piggies sat down with a cuppa chai and some of my special banana bread which I cooked that morning, the secret of which I will reveal when the time is right...

What else are best friends for than to help demolish the banana bread that you would otherwise be forced to eat entirely by yourself?!

Bliss.

Cheap 'n' Quick 'n' Cheerful - Carrot & Ginger Soup

Right, enough of the wallowing, let me tell you about my most recent souper trooper adventure - concocted yesterday in my 'use up the rest of the carrots' bid.

This soup is:

• stupidly, ridiculously, SCANDALOUSLY cheap - I totted it up and it will have cost me all of about 20p
• stupidly, ridiculously, SCANDALOUSLY tasty
• stupidly, ridiculously, SCANDALOUSLY easy peasy
• and pretty blimmin' quick too

How can you refuse, I ask you?

Carrot & Ginger Soup
3 Servings

Ingredients:
1 inch-long piece ginger, peeled and sliced thickly; 1 small onion, diced; 3-4 small-medium sized carrots, diced; glug olive oil; 3/4 litre of stock; salt/pepper

Method:
In a large, flat saucepan, heat the olive oil and add the ginger so it sizzles and wafts delicious sweet-spicy fumes your way. Add the onions and sweat gently for a couple of minutes before adding the carrots and stirring. Pour in the stock - it should amply cover the vegetables. Leave to simmer for 10-15 minutes until the carrots are tender, transfer the whole lot to a blender, blend vigorously until a smooth puree and return to the saucepan. Swill out the blender with about a cupful of water, and add to the puree to loosen it slightly. Heat through.

Spiffing eh? The perfect veggie soup to curb your appetite slightly if it is raging before a dinner, and also pretty darn good as a light evening supper to go to bed on a less-than-full tum. Nice.

A Cup of Tea Solves Everything

One of those days...

I've proved that the old adage 'A cup of tea solves everything' really is true. I've walked to the post office and posted a card I've drawn for a friend, and I've come back on a post-walk mini-buzz to make myself a steaming cuppa. Just plain ol' PG Tips thank you very much, with enough milk to render it a dark tan colour. Served in a cup which is oh so ironic at the moment labelled 'Princess' with a little drawing on the front. Think I might have just struck on an idea for another mug design 'Pauper's Tea'. I'll get scribbling!

One of the many useless skills I've been taking on board is the one below:



One of the undoubtedly more useless skills I've learnt, but nonetheless probably the most amusing....! Timothy Ferriss, one of the most inspirational men I've read about, teaching me yet another skill that makes life that little bit more interesting!

Onwards and upwards.